


Subterfuge

by TheIcyQueen



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Not completely canon compliant, Pre-Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, organization xiii politics/dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIcyQueen/pseuds/TheIcyQueen
Summary: There had to be order. There had to be some sort of HIERARCHY--a chain of command that the others could follow without uncertainty. Some among them were more cut-out for leadership than others, but in the end...the Superior needed more than just that. Xemnas had such grand plans, after all.





	Subterfuge

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for corefenellie on tumblr! I love thinking about all the ins-and-outs of the political scramblings within the Org, and this prompt was the perfect excuse to do just that ;)

“That brings us, I believe…to the _true_ purpose of this gathering.”

It was not anticipation that filled the room, so much as it was resignation. There was not a being among them who had any misgivings about what was about to come to pass. Their little group was still in its infancy, many of the members themselves having only recently come into repossession of their memories, but the fact remained that the order still had to be set. There had to—and there _would be_ —a hierarchy to obey.

There had been a time, not too long ago, that Vexen had insisted they go from rank order alone. It was what made the most logistical sense, it was what was _fairest_. No one had to voice what they knew to be the truth; it was a last-ditch effort for the shamed scientist to grasp as the prestige and recognition he desired so dearly after the Garden’s fall. He changed his opinion to a very different tune once he was reminded that following rank order would mean Xigbar or Xaldin, then, would be expected to be the front-runners.

For all intents and purposes, it _had_ been Xemnas’s initial plan. But plans changed. And truthfully, the idea of putting that much responsibility in the hands of the Freeshooter or Lancer was entirely unappetizing. Both were capable, of course—he wouldn’t have brought them into his fold, had they not been—but both were similarly susceptible to distraction. It would never do to have the mouthpiece of the Organization to be so crude, or so prone sullenness. Other methods had to be put in place.

They had all served very different functions and roles back in Radiant Garden. In the room before him sat guards, sat scientists, sat test subjects, all cloaked in darkness and thrumming with unspoken power. But regardless of who or what they’d been in that past life, they had all watched the same story unfold, had all been witness to the major players.

They all _knew_ who was going to be the second-in-command. Only _one_ person had secured the secret labs, had brought Ansem to his knees, had embraced the darkness with such unbelievable tenacity and willingness…and only _one_ had come out on the other side with talent so immense.

Had he not known Ienzo, Xemnas might not have recognized how very, very _pleased_ Zexion seemed, sitting silently in his throne; he sat with a posture that was positively _princely_ , smacking of the power he would’ve held, had he remained on Ansem’s side. Even as he was, dressed as all the others, seated lower than all save Vexen and Lexaeus, there was something undeniably menacing about him. It had to be the eyes—blue as looming hypothermia, and twice as cold. His cheeks hadn’t yet lost all of the roundness of youth, and even then it was impossible to mistake him for anything but what he truly was.

A predator.

And a _perfect_ successor. In the Gardens, he had spent so _long_ preparing Ienzo to metamorphose into what he was now. He had watched with bated breath as the child became an adult, became a powerhouse, became a _monster_. There was no one among their scant number who could’ve ruled as Zexion would. No one who understood Xemnas’s plans, his orders, his unspoken wishes.

“I have been heavily considering the matter of who it is that should serve directly under me. The one who can best act in my stead when I have concerned myself with matters of more import.” Xemnas watched from the corner of his eye as Zexion’s posture straightened still, becoming somehow even _more_ regal. “And I would like to assure you all that this is a matter that has weighed heavily on my mind. I have been giving only the utmost thought and consideration to who I feel is most worthy, and most _capable_ to serve in this position.”

There were some eye-rolls, he thought. Mostly from the newest member. Axel’s fire, it seemed, was not restrained to his powers—it extended into his temperament. Before the thought could truly take root, the insolence was extinguished by a particularly harsh glare across the way. If anyone knew how to silence a troublemaker, it was Saïx.

Had he not been so invested in the farce before him, Xemnas might’ve smirked. But as it were, there were other things to attend to. “And my decision has been made. The member who shall serve as my second is…” The pause was more for his own enjoyment than dramatic effect, but it served both purposes equally well. “Number VII.”

From his right, there was the softest inhalation of breath. Zexion’s poise was broken as he rocked to face Xemnas, his expression open and disbelieving, almost as though he’d been struck across the face. “I… _Superior_ ,” he said, swallowing heavily as he fought to maintain the composure he so prided himself on. But still, the blow had been landed, and it was immediately obvious he was scrambling for purchase. “Superior, with all due respect, I thought—”

“You thought, and you were wrong, Number VI.” _That_ quieted him instantly. “I’m sure you must’ve considered yourself a contender in this decision. And it would be dishonest to suggest you were not. However.” Xemnas folded his arms across his chest as he turned to face Zexion. “I have seen how you comport yourself around figures of authority. I have seen, firsthand, how very quickly your loyalties shift.” 

The only response Zexion gave, the only response he _could_ give to that, was wide-eyed silence. Had he still been human, Xemnas might’ve thought he was _hurt_.

“You have not proved yourself to be stalwart in your allegiance to the Organization. As it stands, I had no choice but to rule you out. I’m sure you understand.”

Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating as a blanket. Something electric filled the air as Zexion’s head swiveled to Saïx, sitting directly across from him. The two shared a look, long and meaningful and full of nothing less than contempt. Xemnas didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand precisely what was unfolding in that moment. The scientist had been bested by its rat, the prince overthrown by the pauper. It was almost inspiring to watch, really.

The very next moment Zexion was gone, leaving nothing but swirling wisps of darkness in his wake, tendrils reaching from his chair like bony fingers before dissipating entirely. Barely a second later, Lexaeus’s throne was empty as well—only those sitting on the opposite side of the chamber aware of the sharp, withering glare he’d shot the Superior’s way before following after the Schemer. The sleight would not soon be forgotten by the Hero.

It had all the impact of an angry child running to their room and slamming the door after them. To Xemnas’s left, Xaldin made a low, judgmental sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a growl; Vexen’s posture further worsened at the loss of his allies. And all the while, at the far end of the room, Saïx and Axel were attempting to mask their contentment with varying degrees of success.

“Well. I suppose that leaves very little else to discuss. Unless there are any other pressing matters to concern ourselves with…” There was no reply from the remaining audience. “You’re all dismissed.” The sound of dark corridors opening rippled throughout the chamber as, one by one, they disappeared. “Number VII,” Xemnas said, as though it were an afterthought. “We’ll be in contact.”

There was a resolute nod from Saïx before he, too, vanished from the meeting room.

A beat passed, then two. Then came a sigh from Xemnas’s right side, revealing the only presence that remained.

“That was _coooold_ ,” Xigbar drawled, leaning himself more heavily against the side of his seat. “If the brat’d still had a heart, I coulda told you the _exact_ moment you crushed it to dust.” His smirk was nothing, though, if not amused. “Gotta say I’m surprised—didn’t see _that_ one coming.”

Xemnas did not react at first, casting one last sweeping look across the vacant thrones before him. “Zexion was the obvious choice.”

In the empty room, Xigbar’s laugh echoed like a crow’s cruel squawk. “He sure as shit _was!_ So what was _that_ all about?” He made himself more comfortable, crossing one spindly leg over the other as he craned his head up to get a better look at the Superior. “That line about loyalty isn’t holding water with us, you know. We were all there. We saw the way the kid tripped over himself to do whatever you wanted.”

“Always so devoted to the cause, Ienzo.”

“Devoted to _you_. Coulda told him to jump off the Castle roof, and he woulda.” He took to drumming his fingers against the armrest of his throne, the tapping muted by the fabric of his gloves. “Got you the labs…got you _Ansem_ …I seem to remember you makin’ a few promises in return…”

If Xemnas was at all affected by the statement, he didn’t show it. “I meant what I said. There’s still rebellion in him.”

“Like _hell_ there is—”

“His pride will be his undoing. The darkness inflated his confidence in himself and his ability. He believes himself above the rest of you.”

Xigbar’s smirk hardly faltered. “Always has.”

“You’ve seen it. Already, he has a faction more loyal to him than to me.” It was a sore subject, an unexpected turn of events. Back in Radiant Garden, there had been no reason to believe Even would ever ally himself so strongly with Ienzo. He had always had his suspicions about Aeleus (and Aeleus about him, he didn’t wonder), but the advent of Vexen’s fealty to Zexion…it had left a surprisingly bitter taste in his mouth.

Now _that_ was interesting enough to cause Xigbar to raise his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you’re scared he’s gonna be some kind of _competition_. Like I said, he’d eat his own cloak if you _looked_ at him the right way.”

“He is not _competition_ ,” Xemnas said, and though his tone was calm, his voice unchanged, there was a bite to it that blackened the air around them. “He _is_ , however, still a liability. If he’s to be second-in-command, if he’s to be trusted with certain privileged information, I need to be able to trust without a shadow of a doubt that _his_ only agenda is _mine_. As it stands, I cannot do that.”

He took a moment to mull the idea over, pressing his tongue to the tip of an eyetooth in contemplation. _Aha_ , and there it was. “You’re worried there’s still too much fight in him.”

“If he’s to be a vessel, his worthiness is only _one_ aspect I need to take into account.”

“And you don’t think Scarface’d put up half the fight.”

Xemnas heaved a deep, airy sigh—much more for the sake of drama than anything else, Xigbar couldn’t help but think—and for the first time since the meeting had begun, turned to him. “After what they did to him in those labs…there isn’t much of him left. His allegiance is refreshing. His hollowness is _necessary_.” 

“He won’t fight to defend himself because he’s got no _‘self’_ left. Am I understandin’ you right?”

The only response Xemnas offered was the faintest upturn of a corner of his mouth. It was all he needed.

“Color me impressed. You’re gonna start a whole _mess_ of bad blood among the kiddos, though. You got VII on his high horse and VI…well. I think we’ve _all_ had a bit of experience with how _he_ gets when he feels he’s been wronged.”

“When Zexion proves himself _ready_ to be a vessel, then…believe you me, there will be _significant_ changes among our ranks.” He set his elbow atop his armrest, his chin atop his hand, “Until then, I’m taking no unnecessary risks. Let this indignation be his motivation.”

With a low snicker, Xigbar shrugged his shoulders, “Whatever you say. _You’re the boss_.”

 


End file.
